Strong
by Vanilla Mochi
Summary: He was strong; he was born strong, raised strong, the weakness snuffed out of him. But he knew she would always be stronger. Warnings: World War II AU, implied Prussia/Liechtenstein and background Austria/Hungary. Rated T for Prussia.


**A/N: I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die, I'm gonna die… seriously, Switzerland's gonna shoot me. And he will have no mercy.**

"Excuse me sir. You dropped something."

The first time Gilbert meets her, it takes him a few seconds to see her. He looks left and right before realizing she's standing in front of him. She's short, he thinks and it's true. She barely reaches up to his chest.

In her hands, she holds an iron cross, his Iron Cross, blinking her green eyes innocently.

No, it's not green. But it's not blue either; it's a sea-green, like the Atlantic Ocean, vast and deep. They're different and they stand out from the 'superior' blue, just like his own. Red, like fire. Like blood. Like the hair ribbon she's wearing.

He's snapped out of his thoughts suddenly, noticing she's waiting for an answer. He takes the iron cross from her, shoving the metal pendant into his pocket.

"Danke," He says, ruffling her crop-cut hair a little, "Are ya lost, little girl? Where are your parents?" He chuckles softly at her flushed cheeks.

"U-um… I'm nineteen, sir." Her hand, this time, holds out a passport with the official Liechtenstein stamp on the cover.

It's taken out of her hand, as he flips it to her ID. He silently reads: 'Her name, Lili Vogel. Her birthday, July 12, 1923. Her age… nineteen.' He shuts the passport closed, passing it back to her, embarrassed at his mistake. He refuses to admit to that truth, "Ja, well, I knew that." Lili wants to protest, but refrains herself. Instead, she places the passport back in her bag, staying soundless just like he is.

The silence is dreadful, he believes. Neither of them says a word, both awkwardly standing to the side of a sidewalk, next to a bench. He's looking at anything except her because she's kind of cute, with her puppy-wide eyes. It would be a blow to his pride for anyone to catch him blushing. She, on the other hand, wears a soft smile, her fingers fooling around with the woven strap of her handbag. Her gaze stays on the bench next to Gilbert.

"The bench is free, you know." He states out of the blue. She jumps involuntarily, releasing a tiny squeak, "The Awesome Me's break is over now, so don't just stand there in the middle of the sidewalk! It's not awesome to be a road bump."

She ignores his last comment, "Ja. Danke." Placing her bag next to her, she sits on the bench so ladylike: her legs are not crossed, but not spread wide apart either and her dress is smoothed of any wrinkles. It's not hard to tell this woman was raised a lady from birth. Her manners and soft voice says it all.

She reaches a hand into the contents of her bag, taking out a paper folded into three pieces. It's a pamphlet, he observes from her shoulder. The pamphlet holds no importance to him, that is, until he read the first few words.

Now it's not just any pamphlet, but it's a special kind. The dangerous kind. The White Rose kind, to be exact.

A threat to the Third Reich, his commanding officer had called the White Rose earlier, a bunch of worthless kids. But Gilbert must admit those 'worthless kids' certainly have a lot more backbone than a normal German citizen does. What number pamphlet is Lili reading? Number three. Pretty brave of them, Gilbert thinks, but reckless to even distribute any sort of anti-Nazi propaganda in general. The White Rose even gets extra points for knowing that if they get caught, they will probably be executed.

Still, Lili is reading an illegal paper and there are severe consequences for doing so. His gloved fingers grip the pamphlet, yanking it out of her hold. She's taken by surprise, glimpsing left and right, the thought finally hitting her that the thief came from above.

"This is strictly censored material that you're reading. Why are you reading this if you know I'm still here?"

"I-I'm sorry." Lili meekly replies, her timidity getting the best of her, a great difference from Gilbert's harshness. "I t-thought you already left." She bites her lip tightly, scrambling off the bench and bowing apologetically.

If it doesn't help that he feels a pang of guilt for snapping at her with such anger, it makes him feel worse when he notices she may be on the verge of tears; he feels like he just kicked a puppy.

He should probably report this to his boss, but he's also aware that she'll surely be arrested then. She'll be placed in a prison cell, given a heavy fine, or the nastiest punishment- deported east. Not a pleasant thought. He decides he can't go through with this. There's just no way he can do it.

Sheepishly, he tosses the pamphlet back to the girl and says, "Keep it. We've already confiscated more than enough of these. Just don't let anyone else see it."

* * *

Gilbert Beilschmidt is twenty-two years old- only three years older than Lili.

A single man rooming with his younger brother, Ludwig- he lives a life of comfort. As a schoolboy and a Hitler Youth, Gilbert got straight-marks in all of his classes and scored the highest in physical education. As a soldier, a part of the Gestapo, he's a well-disciplined one (although he acts obnoxious to cover it up), his uniform crisp and ironed for no creases. He wears the swastika armband proudly on his right arm. Gilbert is a man living a life of great pride, even if he does tease his fellow acquaintances that he's going to invade their vital regions.

And yet, he hates it.

He hates how the unawesome government breathes down everyone's back, an eye watching over their every move. It's like a spider web; once it catches you, you can't escape it.

He despises his government and himself for treating those of an 'inferior' race like dogs. It makes him sick to see other soldiers beat up innocent people. For god's sake, they are the police! And policemen are supposed to protect the civilians, not pick on some random person just because of their race.

It disturbs him even more when he has to storm a house, ripping apart the very livelihood of the people there for hidden Jews, resisting deportation east. The helpless looks on their faces, the tears of the Jewish children and the screams of the babies are engraved in his memory, unable to be erased.

And he'll be honest; he hates his job in general, even though he gets to work with Luddy every day. His schedule can easily be described like this: wake up, go to work, arrest some random 'criminals', have lunch, arrest some more 'criminals', have break time, arrest more 'criminals' and then go home. The cycle repeats the next day. If there's any change, it's the occasional go-capture-someone-in-the-middle-of-the-night.

Instead of basking in the glory of the Fuhrer like other men his age do, Gilbert longs for a spark in his dull life: an adventure. He wants to go back to his childhood days, when the swastika was nowhere to be seen. He'd be prowling around the neighborhood with his childhood friend, a Hungarian, Elizabeta, together to see what kind of mischief they could make. At least that's Gilbert would be doing. Elizabeta would follow him around, trying to ruin his fun, which just entertains Gilbert even more.

Gilbert is being childish though, yearning for those days. That had been more than ten years ago and even if the Nazis magically disappear off the face of the Earth, Elizabeta is no longer the crazy frying pan tomboy Gilbert grew to appreciate. She's a housewife now with a pompous husband from Austria, popping babies out like there's no tomorrow just as the National Socialist Workers Party desire.

Just as the Nazis desire.

Speaking of the which, Elizabeta isn't the only one under the influence: Ludwig, or 'Luddy' as Gilbert would affectionately call him is also brainwashed by Nazism ideals. What happened to his old little brother, the shy kid that used to hide behind Gilbert? Sure, as a child, Luddy was rather stoic, but that doesn't mean he was emotionless. It doesn't mean that he has to be detached, with steely eyes, a void of compassion. His Luddy had changed and not particularly, in Gilbert's eyes, for the better.

But could Gilbert do? His brother is an adult, capable of making his own choices. Ludwig does not need to rely on Gilbert.

To complain about his own life is useless because for all Gilbert knows he could've been shipped to the front lines of the Western Front with the high possibility of getting shot. And if he really wants to think of his worst-case scenario, he could've been sent to the Eastern Front- a definite suicide.

He must thankful, nonetheless, to God. At least God granted his wish: a change in his orderly routine, though not (hardly) as chaotic or radical as he expects. And it came in the form of a nineteen-year old (she's nineteen, but he thinks she's more like fourteen) girl Lili Vogel. At least she had the manners or the decency to point out he dropped the Iron Cross; that pendant is a memento of his father, who mysteriously disappeared in the middle of the night along with his mother. And then there was that incident with the White Rose Pamphlet…

She is one lucky girl that it happened to him, not anyone else, who caught her with illegal literature. If it was, for example, Ludwig, who saw her, Lili would probably be accused of 'treason' against the Third Reich.

Gilbert really could've cared less, however. Whatever happens to her is none of his business, right? Besides, it's not like they're going to meet again.

* * *

The second time he meets her, he's taking a walk, while on break. She's sitting on her front porch, bored. Her eyes are oblivious of him, too busy daydreaming. Hands folded tightly across her lap, she suddenly tenses, turning to him, seated in the same position. A forced smile creeps up his face as she relaxes all signs of alarm fading. She also smiles, a nervous one, taking a deep breath of relief.

"Hello." She calls out, "We've met before haven't we?"

"Ja. We have." Gilbert responds.

"I knew it!" Her smile grows a little brighter, hands clapping together. "Would you like some cheesecake then? I-if you're not busy, that is." She then adds quickly to a polite invitation. He nods slowly.

She leads him to the patio, light footsteps trailing in front of him through her house. The inside is spotless; the floor so clean that he can see his reflection in it. Not wanting to sully that cleanliness, he kicks his boots off, carrying them inside, despite Lili's objections.

He seats himself in a white patio chair in her backyard, while Lili pours out two porcelain tea cups. When she finally sits across from him, he swipes the tea cup by the handle, the gold-brown liquid throttling down his throat. It's good, he thinks, but he'd prefer a good ol' cup of coffee without any of that sugar or cream nonsense. He then realizes there's no cheesecake on the table- funny, wasn't that why she invited him?

She gives a quick explanation when he asks: "The cheesecake is still cooking." Gilbert's no expert in baking, but he knows that baking any cake in general takes quite some time, so he decides he might as well make himself at home. Crossing his legs, he casually leans back against his chair. Red eyes shift to Lili; she burrows her brows (thank god they're thin, well-trimmed, unlike that British prisoner's obnoxiously thick eyebrows; Gilbert had the urge right there and then to shave it all off.) at her tea cup. He wonders if she's either just trying to entertain herself or if something else is bothering her.

So he asks her, "Is something bothering you?"

"Oh, i-it's nothing," she's caught by surprise, but quickly denies.

"You're a terrible liar." states Gilbert. He doesn't mean to embarrass her, nor does he have the intention of being rude. It's just that she reacted in the same way Ludwig would have in the same situation. Always suppressing their desires and pains for someone else. That is Ludwig nowadays: sacrificing everything for the 'greater good of the Third Reich' and it bothers Gilbert more than he'd ever admit.

"Aw, come on!" He tries to persuade her, nagging in such a childish way. His body leans a little closer to the table, "You can tell the Awesome Me all about it! I ain't gonna bitch about it to any officer! Nope, I'm way too awesome for that!" She eventually caves in after (not) much pressing and makes him swear that he won't say a word about it to about it to the Gestapo. Even then, she's still hesitant to talk, but that's understandable. Freedom of speech isn't a right Nazi Germany gave.

"It's… it's my brother." She says haltingly, the words tumbling out as the plain truth.

"You have a brother?" He asks, throwing his uniform hat on the grass.

"Well… we're not actually related, but… his name is Vash Zwingli." She blurts out. It's such a random statement; her cheeks set on fire and Gilbert's conscience feels guilty for forcing Lili into an awkward position. He's drinking his tea when he spits it out, hearing the name, 'Vash Zwingli'.

He mutters an apology, before repeating, "Vash. Zwingli. You're kidding me, right? Vash Zwingli. The Vash Zwingli. You're not saying that crazy guy with the machine gun is your brother, are you?"

She shakes her head, protesting, "He's not crazy. He just has… his… his trigger-happy moments."

'The definition of not-crazy does not point to a man who threatens to shoot you if you're disturbing him.' Gilbert thinks silently to his Awesome self.

Vash Zwingli: also known as one of the few secretaries in the SS and as 'that guy' who makes sure all the Gestapo cases are in alphabetical order. Before that, he was a proud owner of a bank branched off from the central one in his home country, Switzerland. His reputation also includes the eerie aura he gives off, saying, 'If-you're-not-here-for-business-then-I-will-shoot-you.' Gilbert had first-hand experience on when Vash pointed a hidden machine gun at him for bursting into the office, screaming at the top of his lungs, 'I AM AWESOME!.'

Rumors say that during the Third Reich's early years, Vash once lashed out at a high-ranking Nazi officer, who was beating up on a poor Jewish chap. In his bank. Vash cussed at the officer to get the f*** out of his bank, he's disturbing his customers and workers, all while threatening to shoot the man at the same time. That was probably not a great idea, because the Gestapo arrested Vash and seized his bank under Himmler's orders. As for the owner himself, well, if Lili is talking about him, then that certainly meant that Vash was, luckily, not deported.

"I wouldn't be here if it weren't for Big Bruder," Lili says, "He was the one who persuaded Grandfather to adopt me when I was younger. When times were rough."

"Hm. So what about him?" Gilbert presses her.

"Financial problems." is her short answer. "It's not too bad right now, since Grandfather Alfher left us inheritance money before he died. We've been living off of that for a while along with Big Bruder's savings. But it's going to run out soon and when that happens… he'll have to work harder. He's already working hard enough and I can't do anything except sit here."

"You can get a job." Gilbert suggests.

"Yes, but Bruder won't let me." She continues hastily, "He won't let me get a job. Because that means I would have to join the Nationalist Socialist Workers Party. He doesn't want me associating with them."

"Mein gott, that's totally unawesome!" Gilbert says, exasperated, "You're nineteen! An adult for about two year; your brother doesn't need to make decisions for you!"

"I know that." She states, eyes closing, the grip on her skirt loosening, "But I don't want to join."

"Why?"

"I've seen the way the Nazis have treated the Jews." She shudders at the thought, "It's horrible, it's inhumane. I… I could never do that. I'd be betraying my brother," Is she like Natalia, the neighbor who's obsessed with marrying her big bruder, Ivan? "and myself."

An outcast, she is: a foreigner, a 'political enemy', as his superior dubbed those who did not agree with the Nazis. She had the chance to blend into society, but chooses not to, unlike himself. Instead, she points out an ugly truth that most Germans have ignored, too caught up in the solstice the Nazis provided for Germany.

How is she so clearheaded? How is her mind not clouded by Nazi indoctrination? He does not understand how, eying Lili with an eyebrow raised. Nonchalantly leaning back on his chair, he's about to say something, just as the oven in the kitchen screams in pleasant surprise.

"Ah! The cheesecake!" She scrambles out her seat, picking her skirt as she sprinted into the kitchen, which is not at a very fast pace.

"Was there something you wanted to say?" she later asks, cutting a piece of the golden cheesecake for him.

"Nothing." Gilbert pokes a silver fork into the dessert, popping the piece into his mouth: sweet and toasty, just as he likes it. "Nothing at all."

Only then did he realize the hair ribbon she was wearing, was blue, not red.

* * *

They begin to see each other around more often than not. Lili thinks it's pure coincidence; Gilbert does not. He starts to wonder if he's become God's favorite play toy.

After a while, she begins to walk by the abandoned shoe shop: the place where they first met. They now see each other on a daily basis; she, waiting for her brother and he, on break.

On some days, they have conversations. Some are light-hearted, like the ones about Gilbird, Gilbert's 'awesome' pet bird. Others are solemn, like how much Lili worries about Vash and how she thinks she's only burdening him.

There are also some that are in-between. About the past. Reminiscing. She listens quietly as he pours his childhood memories out, the desire to go back to the simpler days evident. Lili tells him how her father died when she was little during the Great War. Five years, her mother mysteriously disappeared, leaving Lili an orphan, forced to survive on the streets. Vash found her two years later while on a business trip to Liechtenstein (her home) with their grandfather. They ended up staying in Liechtenstein with her, their grandfather traveling back and forth from Switzerland. She came to Germany because Vash wanted to open up a Swiss bank in Germany for more profit.

And then there are those days spent in silence. Gilbert would lean back against the streetlamp, not necessarily vigilant like he probably should be and Lili would sit next to him on the bench, either doing needlework or reading. Those days are peaceful, tranquil, maybe even comfortable. For an hour, all their problems melt away, enjoying the moment while it lasts.

As the days pass, Lili grows thinner and thinner. Her dress, once snuggly fitting around her frame, now hangs loosely over her body. The only thing that is ever the same is her eyes and the red ribbon in her hair. While most citizens indulge with food robbed from conquered territories, every meal Lili and her brother eats is now a blessing from God.

Gilbert tries to offer food to her; along with his brother's wages from the Gestapo, the Beilschmeidt brothers have more than enough food to feed a third a person. Lili, however, refuses.

"No thank you. " She'd refuse politely, "I'm not hungry." Her tempted eyes on the food would betray that statement though. "If Bruder has to starve, then I'd rather do the same. I'll survive." It's her way of saying, "I don't need your pity."

So he acts like nothing's wrong to distract her, also himself, from the ever escalating war and the problems it brings.

He doesn't realize how much he needs Lili until she one day doesn't arrive at their spot. She is one of his few sources (if not the only) of sanity. Ludwig doesn't talk to Gilbert anymore. He comes home now at midnight, long after Gilbert is fast asleep, from parties or meetings with his (their) boss. Elizabeta's husband denounces him, in public or not. Though Gilbert thinks it's because he hasn't forgiven Gilbert for apparently 'threatening to claim his vital regions' (seriously, couldn't he get a joke? Gilbert was just kidding). And if Gilbert tries to fight back, Elizabeta, who is almost always with her husband, will attempt to 'kill' him, rather that she'll slam her frying pan against his skull.

But if Gilbert is lucky, sometimes he'll bump into Elizabeta, by chance, alone. She would then be courteous to him, engaging in polite talk. However, Gilbert isn't blind; subtle signs show Elizabeta would rather cut all ties with him in general.

He knows he shouldn't be worried; Lili could've just caught a cold or something like that. But his fears are confirmed when he's called in, an hour before dark, along with his other teammates.

"We have a new case." His boss starts, plopping a file down on the desk.

One of his co-workers growls, "Another one, huh?" His knuckles crackle, probably angry at the very thought of anyone betraying the 'glorious Third Reich.'

"Don't say that." Another snaps, "They're everywhere, whether you think they're loyal or not. I just don't understand why they would. Those damn Jews are inferior, why waste your time trying to protect them?"

"I don't care why." Ludwig finally states, effectively ending the conversation, "Who's the dog?" He asks the chief.

"She's in the file." Ludwig snatches the file off the table, revealing its content. The name he reads reminds Gilbert of a judge giving the death sentence to the convict. His face pales, hands clammy with sweat.

"Lili Vogel. Gender: Female. Age: 19." Ludwig's eyes squints a little, before he snarls, giving an order, "Wheels up in five. I already know where she is."

The car ride is relatively short; Ludwig is rather a fast driver, though not as fast as his Italian friend, Feliciano.

When they arrive at her house, the ring leader of their SS group, a man named Hans, rings the doorbell. Lili, wearing her usual red ribbon, opens the door, a frown slipping on.

"G-good evening, sir... is something the matter?" She says, uneasily glancing up at Hans; her hand grips the doorknob a little tighter.

"As a matter of fact, there is." He takes out a pistol, pointing it at her forehead, "Don't move. Or I'll shoot." He motions for the guards to rush into her house, Gilbert included. One by one they pass her, checking and ripping though every room and piece of furniture possible. Bookshelves are knocked down, the books flying to the ground. Drawers are emptied of any content and anything on table tops are knocked off, the glass items shattering into thousands of tiny pieces.

It takes about an hour to search (vandalize) her house and by the end of that, Gilbert feels horrible. He feels so bad that he hides his eyes behind his hat. The look on her face when he returns to her front door might just be too much for him to handle. He hears the scraping of a chair on the wooden floor and then Hans:

"Take a seat. Don't worry," He assures Lili, "as long as you answer all our questions, we won't do anything…" He pauses for a moment, trying to find the right word, "dangerous." It's false comfort, Gilbert thinks off the top of his head, annoyed. Lili isn't that stupid; she may be naive, she may be careless, but she's definitely not stupid. Complying to Hans's command, Lili sits down, eyes widening when she notices Gilbert standing behind Hans and next to his brother.

"Now," Hans says, pulling a chair up in front of her. His eyes, a light blue, narrow, "Let's get down business, shall we?" She nods slowly, flinching under the officer's gaze. "We've received word that you've been hiding a Jew." He spits on the ground at the last word.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Are you sure?" He challenges, "Then you wouldn't happen to know of a boy named… I don't know... Feliks Łukasiewicz?"

She stiffens, her back straightening, "No, I don't."

"Nonsense! Your neighbors say otherwise."

"What my neighbors say about me is none of my business. I apologize, Herr Neumann, but I'm afraid can't help you if I don't know who you're talking about."

"Really? Well I think you're lying. In fact, I think you know Feliks very well, which is why you chose to hide him from us in the first place." He smirks in victory, getting a tiny gasp out of Lili, "Don't lie to me, Frau Vogel. All we need to know is where Feliks is hiding. That's all we need."

He bends down to her height, icy eyes boring in her own, "Where is he?" He demands.

"I'm sorry; but I really don't know who you're talking about."

The calm façade Hans hides behind breaks as he jumps up, furious. He is child having a temper-tantrum. "I expect you to tell me! You are a woman! Of a weaker gender! Why do you say nothing?"

"I can't tell you something I don't know, Herr Neumann."

"Lies! All lies! You're just as bad your brother, that traitor. Always sabotaging our work…" He spats, "And a liar, just like you!"

Though she isn't quite as tall as Hans, Lili stands up, "D-don't talk about my Bruder like that."

"QUIET WOMAN!" Gilbert is only disgusted when Hans smacks Lili across the face, "Did I say you could talk? Unless you know where your oh so precious Feliks is, then you are to stay SILENT!" Harsh German echoes throughout the empty house, the silence following after tense. Gilbert glances anxiously at Lili; she's having a stare-down with Hans. A menacing one against a steady one. A calm one with no fear.

"…"

"Well?" Hans smirks, an evil one in victory.

"If you're looking for Feliks," Hans's grin grows wider, "You won't find him here. You won't find him anywhere in Germany or the Third Reich. He's safe, with my Bruder." What is only for a few seconds of waiting seems like forever; no one can predict Hans's next move.

Luckily, other than punching Lili in the face again, Hans doesn't explode or do any kind of violence. "Take her away." He barks. The look he gives the two guards behind her sends shivers down their spines. They hastily obey, taking her by each arm.

Gilbert feels helpless, so helpless now. He has only two choices and they practically end the same way. If he doesn't do anything right this moment, then she'll be shipped to Eastern Europe and he won't forgive himself if that happens. But if he tries to defend her, then it'll be clear that Gilbert's against the Nazi Party. They'll mark him a political enemy and he'll join Lili in the east. They're screwed either way.

The answer, his action, however, is neither of those choices. When Lili looks at him with a grim smile, Gilbert knows he can't ponder any longer. His right hand wraps his pistol; the blood rushes through his ears, his heart beating rapidly against his chest.

"Gilbert, What are you-"

BANG! BANG!

"Soldier Beilschmeit! What do you think you're-"

BANG!

Two corpses behind Lili and Hans's dead body lying in front of Gilbert and Ludwig is the aftermath of those past few seconds. A bullet lodged in each corpse, Gilbert has his gun wedged between both hands, his index finger curled around the trigger. His gun falls to his side, as Gilbert sighs, turning to Ludwig.

Ludwig, wide-eyed, has a pistol aimed at Gilbert. Gilbert walks toward him, dropping his own.

"Don't move!" Ludwig exclaims, "I'll shoot!" Gilbert doesn't stop.

"Luddy." Ludwig flinches at the old nickname, "It looks like we won't be seeing each other for awhile. Sorry." The younger brother faints without a warning. He leans on Gilbert, before sliding off, meeting the ground. "But I can't live this way anymore."

The fist in Gilbert's right hand loosens; he groans, looking back at the scene: three dead SS officers and an unconscious brother. No one's going to think this was accident.

Lili kneels down behind him and picks something off the floor: his Iron Cross. It must've fallen off while he shot the soldiers.

"You dropped this again." She states as if it's the plain truth.

"Ja. I did." He plucks the pendent from her, putting it in his pocket.

"Um… excuse me, but can I ask you something, sir?"

"Gilbert." He corrects her, "Call me Gilbert."

She stutters a little, "R-right. G-Gilbert. Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Why'd you do it?"

_Because you're awesome, like me._

_Because you're too awesome to go out east. _

_Because I lo-_

The thought goes unfinished because he snaps back into reality, turning beet red. What in the world is he thinking?

"Gilbert? Are you okay?" She stands on her tippy-toes, her face a few inches away from his, "Your face is red." A soft hand touches his forehead, "You're warm."

She's just concerned about him, but it doesn't stop Gilbert from freaking out.

"Gah!" he stumbles backward, jerking at her touch. "I'm fine!" he says, once composing himself. Steering to the priority at hand, he glances behind Lili, frowning at her front door, "Come on. We need to get out of here." He turns around, taking an awkward peek at her and shakily, he holds hand out for her. It's tiny, he realizes, compared to his own.

They take hushed footsteps, hand in hand, with a sack of supplies in his other arm. They pause for a moment at the edge of her backdoor.

He glances at Lili again; this time she stands next to him. Squeezing her hand, they smile at each other and take their first steps into the obscurity.

And into the darkness they never return.

_Fin._

**OMAKE:**

When the authorities come to arrest ex-SS officer Gilbert Beilschmeidt and Lili Vogel, all they would find are three corpses, two halves of a swastika armband, and a red hair ribbon. Traitors, they are, but free at last.

**A/N: Lili's ribbon and Gilbert's armband serve as symbols... can you guess what they are?**

**I hope you enjoy reading it! If you want to, please review! Constructive criticism is welcomed (no flames, please!)!**


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